


I'm Half Crazy, All for the Love of You

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bobbi/Mack Implied, Coulson's huge crush on Skye, Dorks in Love, Drawing, Established Relationship, F/M, Fanboy Phil Coulson, Future Fic, I Blame Tumblr, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 11:39:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5162537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucolic Skoulson, daisies for Daisy, picnics, and Phil Coulson's huge crush on Daisy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Half Crazy, All for the Love of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts), [RowboatCop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/gifts), [Skyepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/gifts).



> I will straight up confess that few of the ideas in this fic are mine - I woke up this morning to a Tumblr conversation between the three people to whom this fic's gifted, and my muse simply ran away with their ideas. I'd apologise but I'm not really sorry, so I just hope people like it!  
> Title's from the song Cal and Jiaying used to sing to baby!Daisy (as referenced in S2.)

Daisy can't help staring a little when Coulson lifts the picnic hamper from Lola's trunk. "Really?" she asks in a teasing tone. "A picnic hamper."

"What's wrong with a picnic hamper?" he asks, sounding baffled.

"You don't think it's a bit too dorky for the mighty Director of SHIELD?"

"I'm not the Director this weekend," he tells her, and something in his tone or his expression makes her melt a bit. "I'm just Phil Coulson, taking a much needed break with my hot superhero girlfriend."

"Oh god, you _are_ a dork!" she exclaims, laughing at his offended expression. She sways her body against his. "It's okay, Phil, I love you being a dork."

He smirks, then ducks his head to kiss her quick and hard, the picnic basket bumping against their legs.

"We'll unpack later," he tells her once he lets her go. "Food first."

"Then sex?" she asks, all hopeful, and he utters a really filthy sounding chuckle. 

"Yeah, Daisy, sex after the food."

"Good." She gives him an emphatic little nod, then picks up her rucksack as Coulson shoulders his own, then they head into The Retreat.

AC-S-AC-S-AC

Daisy is half-sitting, half-lying on the picnic blanket (because yes, Coulson is that much of a dork that he's got a matching tartan blanket to with the picnic hamper), combing her fingers softly through his hair where his head is in her lap. They've eaten, but she suspects the sex will have to wait a little longer – the truth is the last couple of months have been so madly busy that she thinks they both need the sleep more at this point. But that's okay. They're here for the whole of this long weekend – three days of nothing but good food, awesome sex, and each other.

"Phil?" 

"Hmm." He sounds half asleep already, Daisy thinks, and smiles softly.

"Never mind," she says. "Go to sleep."

"But – " he begins, murmuring a drowsy protest.

"Later," she says firmly.

"Mmm." 

Coulson is a little bit freaked out at how content and happy he feels right now, his head resting in Daisy's lap, her fingers softly carding through his hair, her nails scraping lightly over his scalp. He thinks he ought to feel more guilty for not keeping up his end of the bargain of food and sex, but he's so damn tired, and Daisy doesn't seem to mind. He'll make it up to her later, he decides as he feels sleep stealing over him.

AC-S-AC-S-AC

Daisy's watching Coulson as he picks her namesake flowers at the side of the trail. "Phil," she says, laughing breathlessly. "You are such a dork."

"Am not," he says, pouting melodramatically at her as he twists some grass around the stalks of the daisies.

"Yeah, you are."

"Why?" He sounds a little put-out now, she notices. "Why is it dorky to show my appreciation for you and your name by picking you a bunch of flowers?"

"It just is," she says, then she bends down and pulls up a daisy. "C'mere." 

He moves into her space, and she clasps his shoulder, then puts her hand behind his neck and bends his head down before tucking the daisy behind his ear.

He starts laughing, then points the bunch of daisies at her. "Now who's the dork?" he demands.

"Never said I wasn't," she tells him in a lofty tone. "You really need more hair for that to work properly." She slips her hand into his and laces their fingers together, and he squeezes them carefully – he's always extra careful about touching her with his robotic hand.

AC-S-AC-S-AC

Back at the cabin, Coulson goes indoors to make dinner and Daisy sits at the table on the veranda at the back. He'd somehow kept the daisy tucked behind his ear as they'd hiked back to The Retreat, and she's both amused and touched that it's still there as she hears him beginning to pull out pots and pans. She looks at the bunch of daisies he picked for her, and a smirk steals over her face as she reaches out for them.

When Coulson carries the tray out to the table where he left Daisy he's not terribly surprised to find her lounging on the wooden bench, sound asleep. He is surprised to find she's turned his bunch of daisies into a flower crown that's resting in the middle of the table.

He sets the tray down carefully, then reaches over and slides his right hand up her arm from elbow to shoulder. "Daisy," he calls. "It's dinner time."

She sits bolt upright, blinking furiously. "I'm awake," she asserts.

He chuckles. "Yeah, but you were asleep." He nods at the circle of flowers. "That for me?"

She smirks. "Yeah. Figured you'd find it easier to wear."

He nods, then picks it up and turns it around in his hands a couple of times before settling it on his head. "How do I look?" he asks, deadpan.

She claps a hand over her mouth, laughing wildly, then fishes her cell from her pants pocket. "Like the King of Summer," she tells him, and quickly snaps a couple of pictures.

"Good." He leaves the flowers in place as he begins lifting the plates and bowls off the tray. "We should eat before this gets cold."

AC-S-AC-S-AC

Coulson's disappointed that his and Daisy's weekend is proven to be well and truly over the first morning after they get back from The Retreat, and they find themselves gearing up for a mission – someone's been targeting Inhumans, people who SHIELD knows are not a danger or threat to anyone, and Daisy is understandably righteously angry. 

He's in his office, checking over the reports that accumulated in their absence, reading them in a very desultory fashion because he can't concentrate – he won't be able to concentrate until everyone's back safely – when Daisy strides into his office looking as magnificent as ever in her Quake field suit.

"Phil," she calls before she's barely through the door, and is talking a mile a minute without a word penetrating the haze of worry in his head. He sees her realise that he's not listening properly, and she reaches out to curl her hand around his wrist. "Phil." 

The warmth of her skin on his cuts through his fears and he swallows hard. "Sorry," he whispers, aware the apology is lame, inadequate even.

"It's okay, Phil," she tells him. She comes to stand besides him, looking down at him. "What do you need?" He gives her a puzzled look. "What will make you worry less while I'm out there?"

He shrugs because he has no idea. She slides her left arm around him and pulls him into her for a tight hug, kisses the corner of his mouth, then says suddenly, "I know."

She pulls away and looks down at his desk, and he looks too, wondering what she's searching for. She grabs one of his pens. "This is your favourite one, right?" she asks, flourishing it.

He nods, wondering why she wants his pen, but he's not left wondering for long because she grabs his wrist again, pushes his shirt sleeve up, and proceeds to draw a daisy in ink on his wrist, right on his pulse point.

"Daisy, what are you doing?" he asks, completely baffled.

"Giving you a promise," she tells him, the pen scratching surprisingly lightly over his skin. "that I will come home safely to you." She finishes the sketch, sets the pen down, then presses some blotting paper over the design, before lifting his wrist and setting her lips to his skin. "I promise."

"Daisy," he whispers, trembling with emotion.

"Phil." She moves back into his personal space to press another kiss to his mouth, squeezes his shoulder, then pulls away. "I must go. I'll see you later, I promise."

He nods. "Take care of you," he says, and she nods back, and then she's gone, and he can only stare down at his wrist with the feeling that he might cry. He takes a deep breath to settle himself, then pulls his shirt sleeve back down and sits down. He has work to do.

AC-S-AC-S-AC

"What's that, sir?" asks Jemma Simmons a couple of hours later.

"Hmm?" Coulson's not sure what she's asking about for a moment, then he realises she can see the edge of the daisy on his inner wrist - his shirt sleeve slid back a little way when he reached out to take the tablet from her. "Oh, nothing," he says hastily, grabbing the tablet and setting it on the desk in front of him. He begins asking her questions about the data she's showing him, and she is easily distracted from his wrist decoration.

Simmons is not the only one to notice, but Coulson's able to divert people's attention each time and he hopes no one's got a close enough look to really see what exactly is drawn on his wrist. At the same time, however, each enquiry reminds him of Daisy's promise and he feels a little steadier for it.

AC-S-AC-S-AS

When the Zephyr One sets down in the hangar, Daisy doesn't rush off the plane and straight to Coulson's office, much as she wants to – she's the team leader here, she has responsibilities, so she makes sure that the Inhumans who need medical attention are taken off the plane first, sending them into Jemma's capable hands. Her own SHIELD team she thanks warmly, congratulates them on a job well done, and sends them to shower, change, and eat.

"Debriefing at twenty hundred," she tells them. "Don't worry, though, I won't keep you for long." That earns her a few chuckles, then the team begins to disperse.

"You did good out there today, Tremors," Mack tells her, pausing beside her long enough to clap her gently on the shoulder.

"Thanks Mack."

He gives her a nod, then strides down the ramp, and Daisy looks up to find Bobbi beside her. 

"He's right," the other woman says. "You're a rockstar."

She smiles at Bobbi. "Thanks." She watches as Bobbi goes after Mack, catching up with him before they leave the hangar. She can't help thinking that Mack's a much better partner for Bobbi than Hunter ever was. (Which doesn't mean she doesn't miss the Brit – he had a bit of an annoying older brother vibe about him, but she's still sorry he's gone.)

"Good work." May's soft voice behind her makes Daisy turn around. Her SO's praise means a lot to her, and she can't help feeling a bit happier with the way the mission went down.

"Thanks."

"You'd better go and tell the Director we're back," May says. "Stop him fretting." Daisy lifts her eyebrows, and May grimaces a little. "You and I both know that even though Billy will have reported our mission success, he'll still worry until he actually sets eyes on you."

"I – " Daisy begins, feeling a bit wrong-footed by the knowing expression in her SO's eyes.

May gives her a little push. "Go on. I'll see to the plane."

"Thanks May." Daisy grins at her, then turns and strides down the ramp and across the hangar, oblivious to the fond smile that May's giving her retreating back.

AC-S-AC-S-AC

Coulson looks up at the sound of feet and voices further down the hallway. He knew, of course, that Daisy's mission had been a success – she'd reported that much before beginning the flight back to the Playground, but he hasn't been able to relax properly. He presses his metal thumb to his pulse point, and is startled when Daisy's voice speaks nearby.

"You didn't wash it off, then."

His head snaps up and he stares at her, taking in the state of her: her suit's a little scuffed, but there are no tears in it; her hair's mussed up, more than usual, but there are no bruises on her face and she seems to be glowing with vitality.

"Daisy," he breathes.

She gives him a big grin. "Hey Phil," she says, her voice soft and casual. She nods at his wrist. "You didn't wash it off."

"Of course not," he says immediately, surprised by the suggestion.

She chuckles, then comes around the corner of his desk and leans her ass against the edge. He rolls his chair back a bit so he doesn't have to crane his neck too much to look up at her. "Okay?"

She nods. "Yeah, Phil. I'm okay. I brought back five Inhumans – all in need of medical attention, but no one seriously hurt, thank god."

"And did you find out who's been attacking them?"

She nods again, her expression harder, implacable, even. "Yeah. He won't be hurting anyone again."

Coulson swallows at the anger in her voice and face. "Good." He reaches out and curls his hand over her knee, and her face softens immediately.

"I told my team we'd debrief in a couple of hours," she says, her tone not quite as casual as she probably hoped to make it.

He smirks. "I bet you could use a shower."

"I could," she agrees. "You wanna come with so I can debrief you?"

His smirk becomes a full blown grin. "Oh yeah."

She reaches out and grabs his shoulder, then leans down and plants a hard, fast kiss on his lips, and he can't help groaning into her mouth.

She smiles against his mouth, then tugs him up to his feet. "C'mon then," she says, and he follows her out of his office and into his quarters. He's barely got through the door and got it locked before Daisy pushes him up against the wall and grinds herself against his body.

"I need you, Phil," she says breathy and desperate.

"Okay." He unzips her suit jacket, and makes quick work of undressing her, then spins them around to press her against the wall as he slides his mouth down her body until he's on his knees at her feet. She tangles her fingers in his hair and tugs, and he groans at the sensation, which goes straight to his cock.

He's going to do his best to send her at least half crazy, he decides. It's what she does to him.


End file.
